The Devil You Know
by MeltingCrown
Summary: She was his to take, so Billy Russo did just that. But he had trained her to fight in survival situations, and she was going to fight her way out. The Devil always did like rebellion.
1. Chapter 1

If someone had asked Chloe Pritcher if she saw herself working for the CEO as a secretary for one of the top PMC firms in the nation at twenty-three she would have laughed. If someone had told her both her parents would've been dead by then, she would've called bullshit.

Yet both of those things had happened.

Turning off the laptop she looked out the ceiling to floor sized windows, admiring the twinkling view of New York at night. Then she opened the door into her pretty boy boss's office: Billy Russo.

He looked up from his laptop with a quick smile. Chloe went over and made him a cup of coffee in the Nespresso machine.

"Leaving me so early?" He asked.

"It's seven."

"Let me guess your plans now . . . hmmm . . . a Jane Austen novel or some other old book and a cup of tea while you ponder why you have no cats."

She watched as the coffee offered its last drops into the cup. "I'm going on a date tonight actually."

The smile slid off his face.

She turned around. "Don't worry I promise everything is done for today and really," she waved the cellphone in her hand, "my life pretty much revolves around yours anyway. So if anything happens I'll let you know."

"That's not what I'm worried about." His eyes had darkened with scorn.

She bristled in response. "I know the last guy didn't-" she paused and took a deep breath to gather herself. The bruises were no longer on her body, but she couldn't help but think she had played a part in his suicide. He hadn't been nice, but she didn't feel right about him ending his life in an abandoned construction building in Hoboken. While she apparently didn't know him as well as she thought, going to Hoboken to suddenly end his life just didn't seem like him.

She looked at him. There was something hungry in his eyes she couldn't decipher. But he had a lot of looks in his eyes she didn't understand; he had been out in war for years, so she supposed she never really would. "Billy this one's different okay?"

He slid his hands into his tailored pockets. "He's CIA."

"And I work for a PMC firm. We're all in the business of protecting people, right?" She replied. It was no surprise Billy already knew the guy's profession, even though she had only brought him up once in a conversation between the two of them last week.

She placed the coffee on his desk.

"Just be wary, he could be using you." He said.

A crooked grin appeared on her face. "You up to naughty activities, Billy the Kid?"

He shrugged. "Ah you know, this and that and concealing your Christmas present."

"It better not be cash."

His expression slid to innocent as a cherub.

"Billy I'm serious! And no gifts worth an obscene amount."

"What is it with you and hatred for the good things in life?"

She rolled her eyes. "I just don't care as much as you."

"And what do you care about, Chloe?"

"The little things in life."

"I'll see what I can arrange, how about that."

"Just let me arrange my own Christmas gift and you can write the letter."

"There's no fun in that."

"You have more important things to work on."

"Pencil yourself into my schedule, then."

She breathed a laugh. "Yeah, yeah, we'll see."

"If not you can pack up your things, find a new place to work at. Of course, it'll never be as good as here. And where else will you be able to find a boss as handsome as me to ogle at through the glass window?"

She tried to suppress her laughter. "You and I both know that I wouldn't be here if you hadn't hired me."

"And kept you." He added.

"Because I am the best secretary you ever had."

"Let's go with that."

"I can send an email faster than you can pull a gun."

"Is that right?" He leaned against the desk, crossing his arms as his eyes lit up with amusement.

"Sure, I learned a thing or two during those training exercises you forced me attend."

"You haven't been in a while."

"Let's be honest, I'm not very good at fighting."

"You'd be surprised how you act in life or death situations." He said.

She toyed with her phone. "Hoping it doesn't come down to it."

"Play by the rules and you'll be safe, no matter what situation." He said.

"Didn't you lay down the rules?" She asked.

Billy stood up and walked over to her. There it was, the subtle gate of a predator. The way he moved, like he was king of the jungle. "Exactly."

"Oh I get it now. Billy Russo, you know it's unfair to have one person follow all the rules while the other just makes them up?"

"Life isn't fair, but it sure as hell is fun if you do it right." Billy was only a foot away now, looking down at his petite secretary even as she stood in her heels.

"But I know, you don't care about me, and you'll keep pretending I haven't given you some kick-ass advice over the years."

"Well without you I wouldn't know how to dress so nice." She smoothed his suit. "And don't let that go to your head."

Billy smirked. "I'd never."

"Good because if it did you would be a total pain the ass to work with." Chloe teased.

"Hm." He rubbed at his jaw. "So where are you taking this mystery man?"

"Some place."

He stared at her, cocking an eyebrow. She hated when he did that, putting on his serious military face. He looked like he was ready to use some physical tactics on her to get her to spill the information, like twist her around and use her own arm as leverage. It was threatening as hell.

Her hands went up in defeat. "Okay, stop using the 'boss' face on me. It's after work hours anyway."

"Thought you said you work all the time."

"Don't use my own words against me."

He fought back a smirk.

"Fine." She sighed. "It's at his place. Just some dinner. That's all you're getting to know. Don't you have some supermodel in some upscale bar to chase after anyway?"

"Not tonight Chloe. I have some other business to attend too."

She crossed her arms. "More stuff I can't put onto your schedule?"

"More stuff you can't put on my schedule."

"You going to tell me what it is one day?"

"Some things are best kept in the dark."

"Fine, don't tell me." She said.

She wondered what it was he got up to when she wasn't allowed to know. It was probably just personal things, but still, it got her curious. But she trusted him.

He had taken care of her after all. When her parents had died in that car crash after dad had come back from Afghanistan, it was Anvil that had been seeking interns, right at her university she had just gotten into. Needing desperately to make some money she had signed up.

It was luck that she was chosen, and a seeming act of fate that let her meet Billy the day she walked into their office.

She had been his secretary ever since. How could she not trust him? After working with him for six years, after he taught her the ropes of the business, after he taught her to be a woman and not a depressed, hopeless girl - she owed him everything she was.

Not that she would say that out loud.

Maybe it didn't need to be.

Maybe he knew.

Part of her hoped she didn't. She was strong-willed too, she was her own woman. She was a fighter too in her own way.

He twirled a strand of her blonde hair that was so light it looked white under the right lighting. "I forget how much older than your age you act."

"It's probably from spending so much time with someone as old as you."

"I'm only thirty-four." He defended with mock admonishment.

"Let me know when the arthritis sets in, Russo."

"Will you be massaging me?"

"I'll be hiring a masseuse for you, because that is the professional course of action."

He gently tugged at a strand of her hair. "HR's poster girl."

Chloe took a small step back. "You got that right. Now I really need to go. If you need anything else, well, you always know where to reach me."

His smile was tight, controlled. She didn't notice. "Have a nice night Chloe."

"I will." She said. And then she was out of the office, breezing past him gently. He watched her go, watched as the elevator doors closed.

And then he lunged for the phone on his desk. "Mike? Give me access to Chloe's desktop. Now."

—

The jazz was turned down low on the stereo. The entire kitchen had the nice fragrance of Italian food. The two worked on making the dinner together, after Chloe had insisted on helping.

Ian gave a heavy sigh. "I need to talk to you about Billy Russo. And I wanted to do it somewhere there isn't potential to be overheard."

She stopped chopping carrots to turn around a frown at him. "I can't even go a night without my boss coming up in some conversation." Knowing that it was over with this date and back to business she picked up the glass of wine. "Is this what this date is, Ian? Business? Because I could've just set up an appointment."

"Chloe it's more serious than that. He was involved in your p-"

The glass slipped from her fingers suddenly and red wine cascaded down the front of her white shirt. "Fuck!"

Ian stepped forwards to take the spilled glass from her hand.

"Oh dammit this isn't good. Do you have a bathroom, maybe I can try to take this out." She was dabbing her shirt furiously with a napkin. "I promise I'll listen to whatever it is you want to talk about after."

He looked hesitant for a moment, and then sighed again. "Go upstairs, you can borrow one of my shirts, it's hanging in the bathroom anyway."

"Thank you. Oh I'm such an idiot." She muttered as she continued wiping at the wine, navigating her way to the upstairs bathroom.

As Chloe put on the new shirt after giving up on her blouse she stared at herself in the mirror. Doe blue eyes stared straight back, and her bow-shaped lips were tinged red from the wine. She supposed she did look a little cherubic.

She buttoned Ian's white office shirt up to the neck. It really hadn't been her intention of spilling on herself, and she didn't want him to think wearing his clothes meant anything. She still didn't know where the night was heading.

Fluffing her hair out she went downstairs again, forgetting to put on the heels she had taken off when she cleaned the wine off of those too.

"Ian can we maybe talk about Billy after dinner, for once it would be nice not to have like every conversation I have revolve around him." She called as she went hit the bottom step.

For a split second she paused. The music was turned off. "Ian?"

As she walked into the kitchen the breath left her. She hit the floor immediately, hand automatically swiping the counter as she went down.

He was lying there, in his own pool of blood. As her hands went to his throat and to his wrist to check for a pulse she finally realised just how hot and thick blood really was. It coated her hands.

Ian's green eyes were wide open, staring straight up at the ceiling. As her eyes darted around the floor she saw no signs of discarded bullet shells.

But she could see it now. Could see the way his throat was opened up. He had been stabbed, maybe twice, maybe three times. She couldn't tell.

Her mouth was dry and heart was beating against her ribcage.

But the world seemed to slow down all of a sudden. She saw the shadow move behind her, felt as it leaned towards her. With a cry she took the knife she had been shielding with her body and lashed out.

The figure stumbled backwards in surprise and with a grunt of pain as she stabbed the cutting knife into their arm. With a shriek she fled under them before the attacker had time to respond and yanked the backdoor open.

Barefoot and wearing a thin shirt she sprinted across the wet grass. The city lights twinkled in the distance. She crawled over the fence, scratching her legs.

And then she threw herself into a tight spot in the shadows between a garbage can and a giant bag of grass and leaves.

For a moment there was silence, and then she heard heavy booted footsteps.

The fight came jogging down the small alley filled with disregarded construction items. The attacker stop a foot away from her and she placed a trembling hand over mouth, nearly vomiting as the blood smeared across her lips. She tugged her legs up tightly to her body, praying the killer wouldn't see her.

The attacker was tall and well built. She wouldn't stand a chance with another confrontation, it was only surprise that had let her get away. In the gleam of the streetlight she saw his bloody hand. And then the killer ran forwards, far away from her.

After ten minutes she let out a shaky sob before standing up.

What was it Billy had taught her in those simulations? What the hell was it?

Find cover? Find somewhere familiar?

Oh she wished she knew what to do. But she wasn't a fighter and she had no expierence besides a stupid simulation or two.

She ran through the streets, not caring in the slightest at how her feet had become numb from the cold.

Her breath came out in cold puffs.

After a while she stopped running and slowed to a jog as her lungs burn.

Finally, she walked.

She wandered through streets and back alleys until she came to a parking lot.

It wasn't one she recognised. In the distance she heard dogs barking and the wail of sirens. She put her hands through her hair and cried out.

What the hell was she supposed to do?

There was no one to call.

Shit. Maybe she could call Ed Howards secretary, she knew that number by heart.

No wait she was in Vietnam. It was the middle of the night, she couldn't call her either.

After long deliberation she hesitated as she made her way to the phone booth. Graffiti stained the entire thing.

She bypassed the need for paying twenty-five cents with a code.

At least working with all kinds of law enforcement had taught her a thing or two.

There was a click on the other end. "B-billy?"

"Chloe where are you? I heard what happened."

The relief hit her like a tsunami at a familiar voice.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I know you're busy but I didn't know who else to call." She sobbed.

"Where are you?" He repeated, harsher this time. Impatiently.

She looked around until she saw a sign. "Karring Parking Lot. Uh, East Side of the River."

"Did you call anyone else?"

She blinked and then shook her head furiously, as if he could see. "You're the first person."

"I'll get you, don't move, do you understand me?"

"What if he's still out there looking for me?" She whispered into the scratched phone.

"Stay." He ordered.

The line went dead.

* * *

 _I don't know which Punisher fanfiction page is actually in use. So I'll post this here and see what happens._

 _Like this? Throw me a review!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for your reviews! I think I'll continue writing this until the end. I have too because I can't be lazy and read other peoples Billy Russo fics, and yes this will quickly turn into a dark (with some smut) fiction. Reviews welcome! (With the low popularity of punisher fanfiction for some reason you readers are my motivation)_

* * *

They were in his other apartment, the one that overlooked the river. It was almost empty with the exception of Billy and two other neighbours somewhere else it the apartment. He said he liked it that way, was more quiet.

Chloe stared with empty eyes at the dark water below.

Behind her stood Billy, he hadn't even taken his blazer off. For a moment his eyes went down to the murky waters below as well before he focused on the defenceless woman in front of him.

She flinched as his hand went to her shoulder. He came closer, enough that she could feel his body heat as his hands went around her, opening the top button of the blazer with precision.

He continued going down each button with no protest from Chloe, coming close enough to brush the shell of her ear as he worked. His sharp cologne was a welcome comfort of familiarity. Finally the oversized red-splattered shirt fell to the floor.

"This isn't professional." She mumbled, almost absently.

She didn't hear it but she felt the rumble of his chest for a second. "Come on, lets get you cleaned up."

Placing his hand on the small of her back he caressed the soft skin for a moment, before steering her into the large bathroom. He sat her down at the edge of the walk-in bathtub.

After wetting a clothe he began dabbing at the blood on her hip.

"You going to tell me what happened?"

She let him clean the blood, little by little before she answered. Her voice was hoarse, but she knew she hadn't screamed. "He was . . . someone murdered him. They were going to murder me too. But I stabbed them."

"Atta girl." He said.

Finally she turned to look at him. But even as he seemed proud, genuinely proud, of her actions there was something else, something darker. She looked away again.

"They're going to be angry with me now. They're still out there."

The back of his hand brushed against her cheek. "You just focus on me now."

She gave a small nod.

She let her mind become as numb as her body felt.

He worked in silence.

After some time she looked at him.

"Billy aren't you hot like that?"

"Hm?"

"You haven't even taken off your blazer yet."

"If you want me to take my clothes off you could just ask."

Chloe didn't smile.

She turned around and reach out to him. He gave a small flinch, almost unnoticeable as she touched his arm.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He removed her hand from his bicep and gathered her hands within his.

"Are you hurt?"

"Of course not."

She closed her eyes again.

"I can't believe he died like that." She whispered.

"Getting stabbed in the throat is fast."

"Yeah." She whispered. "I suppose it is."

He wet the clothe again and dabbed gently at the dried blood on her cheek. He moved gently, brushing the towel against her lips.

Chloe looked at him again. There was something wrong. It was an itch in her brain he had triggered but she couldn't figure out just why. As he worked it was as if he wore a perfect mask of neutrality.

She angled herself towards him. "Billy . . . " She began in a small voice, but couldn't find the words.

Reaching for the lapels of his blazer she began to remove it, pushing it off his body. He didn't stop her.

It fell to the ground.

The white shirt was stained blood red around his bicep where even the gauze hadn't stopped the wound from bleeding. But it had been wrapped around his arm with expert presition that only came through practice.

She inhaled sharply. "Billy what happened?"

He didn't answer. He didn't look guilty. He looked like he had been caught and had accepted it. Proudly. He continued to look at her, darkening eyes flickering between her light ones.

"I . . . I didn't tell you how he died." She said, shaking her head.

He leaned back. "The police told me."

"No. No a mortician confirms that, and that takes at least a day."

She looked up at him again. And then at his bicep.

Exactly where she had stabbed the killer.

As her head snapped up she expected him to look confused. To look defensive.

But he looked expectant.

She stood up from the edge of the bathtub and stumbled away. The sink dug into her back. "N-no."

"Yes."

She moved away from him, out of the bathroom as he stood up slowly.

It was like entering a parallel universe, where the dark things that crawled in the dark existed and she couldn't pretend they only hid beneath the bed.

"I don't understand." She whispered.

He placed the clothe down in the sink, in no particular hurry. "What did Mr. Marlet tell you, Chloe?"

"What?"

"I need you to tell me what you spoke about."

She moved backwards across the plush carpet. "Billy what's going on?"

He couldn't help but smile now. That look on her face, that hopeful look, still giving him a chance. Still seeing him as a hero.

Sweet, beautiful, angelic Chloe Pritcher. So terribly trusting, going off and talking to all these men - especially those men who might have ruined her with their words. Taken her away from him.

"I killed him in the kitchen. And you stabbed me." For every step he took forwards, graceful as a panther, she took one shaky one back as her eyes widened in teary-eyed terror. "Don't worry, I'm not angry. You're a smart girl."

And then she turned around and sprinted for the door. He let her.

She tried to yank it open. It wouldn't budge. She tried again with a cry of despair.

The key was missing from the lock. The door vibrated as she pounded desperately on the wood with her fists.

But her throat closed up and she couldn't scream.

"Help. Please. Help." She whispered as she kicked at the door in desperation.

Whipping around she saw Billy had rolled up his sleeves and was holding a small white towel in one hand now. Her eyes darted around. But there was nowhere to go.

He ran his hand through his hair, staring at her intently. "Babygirl this wont hurt, but you gotta stop working against me now."

"Billy, please, please, please don't." She begged, voice dropping to a feeble whisper as he took slow calculated steps forwards, closing the space between them. She felt like she was going to faint. He responded with a soft look, the kind one gave an animal before slaughter.

And then he lunged forwards.

She thrashed against him as he twisted her around and away from the door with force.

He swung her legs out from under her and she went crashing to the floor. In a split second he had manoeuvred himself on top of her before they even hit the ground. As she cried out in pain on collision with the floor he straddled her, yanking her wrists together with bruising force above her head. He hovered over her, eclipsing her vision from anything other than him.

With a tense jaw he shoved the towel onto her mouth and nose. "Shh, don't struggle. Everything is going to be fine Chloe. Just relax. _Breath._ " He coaxed as he leaned in closer just as her eyes began to flutter. "That's it. You're safe."

Her body gave one final jerk before it went slack as her eyes slid closed. A tear escaped her eyelashes. Before it could roll down her temple he bent down and brushed his lips against her heated skin, tasting the salt of the tear.

His lips moved against her temple, "You're safe now Chloe. I have you."


	3. Chapter 3

_a/n:_

 _Thank you Doctorwho9, Chndoll, queen of sass, Dorksoul, babyshan211, and Guests for your reviews! Chapter 3 is now up!_

* * *

She woke up with a headache that felt like an entire construction site had planted itself into her skull. Groggily she began waking up, blinking slowly.

There was a blurry white ceiling that came into focus. Her body felt wrong and she tried to pull her hands towards her but found they were stuck somewhere. With a small sound of confusion she tried to twist upwards, but found her movement was limited. Looking above she saw red. She blinked again. Fuzzy red.

"Like the handcuffs? Thought they were better than the real ones - they bite." He sank into the mattress next to her. "They look good on you."

She blinked harshly and then everything came into focus. A king sized bed with dark covers was what she was lying on, and her hands were tied together above her head with handcuffs that should've only been used for pleasure, and her each ankle was bounded to the end of the bed. There was no windows in this room. In fact there was barely anything other than the bed, a small wardrobe and a TV.

Everything came back with the strength of a tsunami.

Billy swam into her vision as she turned to look at him. He had changed clothes, back to his usual tailored suits. The blazer hung over one of the bed posts, but he had left the silver vest on. His head had been careful slicked back.

"I'll scream." She whispered.

"No one can hear you here. There's only you and me." He gestured to the walls.

"I won't let you."

Chloe fought against the rope around her ankles that held her down on the bed.

It took him a moment. Then realisation dawned on his face before morphing into a look somewhere between disgust and anger. His mouth grew into a tight smile, the one he used when he wasn't happy at all and she shrank into the covers. "Is that what you think this is?"

Billy stood up and shook his head. He seemed to want to say something, but instead rubbed at his jaw. "Babygirl, if I want it, you'll be begging me for it first."

She yanked at the cuffs. They rattled against each other. She was no further to escaping.

Billy strode over to the TV and turned it on, jamming his phone into the plug.

The TV flickered to life and after a moment a video came on. There was no audio, and the clip was grainy, taken from a security camera.

The clubs lights were flashing on both floors. It was a newer venue in Upper Manhattan previously an old church. Under the booming music she celebrated her twentieth birthday on the first floor surrounded by champagne and dancing, writhing bodies. The girls from the office who had dragged her here had long disappeared.

She couldn't remember when the first man she had been dancing with disappeared as she moved seamlessly in and out of the crowd and when the next one pulling her closely began. Everything had become a blur of bubbly alcohol and colours.

Billy sat at the edge of the short wardrobe below the TV. That was when Chloe leaned closer in an attempt to see the screen better. No, it couldn't be.

But it was.

There he was.

On the second floor in the V.I.P. section. There were several women, all legs and beauty who were trying to wrangle their way onto one of those empty seats. But as he spoke to them absent-mindedly his eyes never straight from the first floor. His eyes stared at his tow haired employee.

An older man, twice her age was talking with her now, handing her a glass of red wine. Her dainty hand reached out to slip around the soft glass and take it off the business man. Billy leaned forwards now, clasping his hands together.

The business man was going in for the kill, hand sliding onto her hip and pulling her in close, lips in her hair as he spoke to her, probably about going someplace more quiet away from this club. She lost her balance and fell into him, handing going onto his chest to balance herself.

Her boss stood up sharply with a tight jaw. He threw a hundred dollar bill on the table before making his way down the spiralling stairs. With an agileness few possessed he weaved his way in and out of a drunken sea of bodies without touching one of them. As Chloe and the man were making their way out he stopped them like a blockade.

It was only a second and then the business man and Billy had taken a step closer to each other. There didn't need to be any audio to know the conversation was heated, and as the business man reached out to Chloe, Billy took his arm and then did something to his fingers. He stepped closer, and whatever he said to the business man, he nodded hastily in agreement right after. As soon as he had his appendage back he was gripping his own fingers and massaging them, looking shocked he still had all five on one hand.

In the meantime Billy had slid past him. Chloe looked up in surprise, but before she could get out a word he had placed her hand possession on her waist, forcing her out of the club.

Billy turned the TV off.

She remember that night now. There was a giant block of nothingness. But she remembered going there with some of the other Anvil girls, and she remembered waking up in Billy's bed. He hadn't done anything to her, just settled her into his bed. After her face had been red with embarrassment for well over an hour of profusely apologising to him as he told the story of how she ended up there in the place she left thinking she was going to be fired. But that firing never came.

"There's been too many times, Chloe, where you didn't stand a chance at even defending yourself. I didn't do it then and I'm not doing it now."

"Then what is this, what do you want?" She yanked at the fluffy cuffs again. "This whole time. I thought ending up at your place that night was my fault."

"Wasn't it? You couldn't even remember the night."

"So, so what then, I make my own decisions but if you don't agree with then then you'll just come in and decide everything anyway!"

"You're getting hysterical." He observed.

"I woke up in your bed. You told me I had called you at the club. I went _years_ thinking I had made an absolute fool of myself in front of my boss, drunkenly blabbing on about how great you were."

The corner of his lips tugged upwards and he gave a small nod. "It's just a twisting of facts. You were very charming in the limo, even if you couldn't remember it."

She yanked on the handcuffs again and kicked her legs out. They rattled against the bedpost.

"Why were you there?"

"To watch over you." He said.

"I can take care of myself."

"And you had no idea what kind of man he was." He said. Like he knew. Did he know that business man? Was there a sordid reputation that was well preceding him?

"Then that's my decision and I'll have dealt with the consequences." She said.

Billy let loose a small smile and shook his head. "No, it's not. Not if you don't make the right choices."

"Those consequences are still mine to deal with, Bill. And why, why do you care so much all of a sudden?"

"Because you only have me." He snapped. He gave her a look like she was an ungrateful brat.

"So what do you think you are Billy, a guardian angel?"

He answered her with a sly smile. She was sure he hadn't thought of it like that before. She wondered if he liked the title now though.

"And do guardian angels kidnap their charges?"

Billy didn't answer the rhetorical question. Standing up he made his way over to her at a leisure pace. Slowly he sank into the bed next to her, sitting to look at the door. Twisting his body he reached out to her, and she shrank into the bed to get away from his touch. Billy tucked a strand of white hair behind her small ear. She was unmarred. Unmarred by tattoos, unmarred by piercings, unmarred by scars and bullet holes.

"I tried for years. Gave you everything. And then you decided to go runnin' into that CIA agents arms, ready for him to tell every bad thing about me - things you can't understand."

All she could do was stare at him, eyes flickering between his own obsidian ones, waiting to see the telltale sign of a joke. But all she found was grim acceptance.

The sickness feeling returned, roiling in her stomach like waves in a storm. He really thought that didn't he? That he had tried everything, been watching over, and now she had wronged him some way. Her eyes squeezed shut for a second. But when she opened them everything was still as it was. Still reality.

Billy was like a god, but not the one he thought he was. He was like Janus, the god of two faces.

His eyes became distant for a moment as if he had suddenly transported to another world. Then they snapped back to her. "You can't ignore the headache can you? Chloroform has some nasty side-effects."

On the bedside table was already painkillers and water poured into a clean crystal whisky glass. She wasn't surprised he didn't have normal glasses here.

As he took the painkillers she thought about struggling against him, biting his hand. But she was cuffed. Her eyes flickered around for a moment.

No, he had taught her that sometimes patience got the upper-hand.

Chloe looked at him warily as she parted her lips. He placed the painkillers on her tongue and gave her such an intense look she tried to move away from him without thinking. But there was nowhere to go. With a nod of approval at her acceptance he loosed the rope on the cuffs, enough so that she could support herself onto her arms.

He tilted the glass upwards and the water trickled in. She gulped down the pills. Water spilled down her neck. He gave her a fond look, dabbing away at the excess liquid with his shirt. "There you go."

Chloe stared at him. Her heart was hammering against her chest, just like it had done when she had run away from him the first time.

"Can I go to the bathroom please?"

It didn't take him long to accept her request. He released her from the cuffs and immediately she sat up. He loosened the binding around her feet and she swung out of her bed. Her upper back protested from the position she had been in.

Billy sat on the edge of the bed, long legs resting on the beige carpet floor as he watched her go into the bathroom. She shut the door.

Her head snapped around as she tried to find an escape. The bathroom was small, only a rain shower, toilet, and sink in there. It didn't look like the construction was complete, with one wall still made of concrete.

As she looked around tears of despair and frustration threatened to leak between lashes. There were no windows here, just like there were no windows in the bedroom. She couldn't escape. Not this way.

The only place was the door. He hadn't shifted from his position. In fact, he had gotten more comfortable, leaning back on his arms as he observed her with a slight tilt of his head, analysing her.

She walked slowly towards him, and then past him in a gesture of going back to the bed. And then she leapt for the door. Before her hand could brush the door handle he already had a grasp on her, pushing her against the wall next to the door.

He forced his knee between her legs. "Did you know how closely the pleasure stimulus is linked to your survival instincts?" He jerked his knee upwards, hitting her right between the apex of her thighs and forcing her onto tiptoes as his leg became her only balance.

Heat coiled in her lower body and she inhaled sharply.

Placing his hands on either side of the wall he leaned in. "It's distracting at first."

Her chest was moving up and down rapidly as he caged her in. Maybe she could fight him, get out and leave him here. She had taken him by surprise once. Maybe she could do it again.

Billy leaned in, murmuring into her soft hair. "It's only instinct and impulse you're feeling now. Let it, Chloe."

She felt him manoeuvre himself, gently moving her around for a moment before he placed his hand back on the wall. A clean knife with an edge so sharp she could almost feel it gazed right back at her.

She recoiled so fast she hit him in the chest. "You could kill me, if I gave you this knife. But then, you'd also have to lift me up, get the system to read my finger print as well as a retinal scan at the same time. I don't think you had the strength for that. And then we'd both be stuck in here for a long time, Chloe."

She shook her head. "You're lying."

"This thing, there's no point in lying about it. You get out, it's because you've been a good girl and I've let you."

Her hand curled into a fist. She could be here for years. For decades. _Think, think. It's not over yet. Keep it going until you think of something._

"I could be at work today."

Billy breathed a gust of amusement through his nose. "Always thinking about work. Yeah, you could've been."

"But you took me instead and now I'm here."

"Now you're here." He repeated.

"I don't get. Why not just hire someone to do the dirty work for you? It's not as if you don't have an entire firm at your disposable - unless you were afraid they'd be too close to me to go through with it."

He leaned forwards, a razor sharp smile twisting his face. "I could've paid them to do it and they would walk right into work the morning after the job and look at you like they were never even there."

The blood in her veins froze. He wasn't lying. They both knew it.

"There only loyalty any of them ever knows is for money."

"Yeah well you've taught them well then."

She could _feel_ his grin. "Hoping to distract me with conversation, Pritcher? I think we both know I'm trained better than that."

His breath was hot against her neck and instantly she squirmed against him. She teetered on her tiptoes, struggling to regain her balance as she moved against him.

It sent a zing of electricity through her.

His voice dropped to a husky whisper, "But that right there, that's distracting."

Instantly she froze.

Billy chuckled, affection seeping into his voice. "I'll let you go, under one condition."

"What condition?"

She was bracing herself for the worst.

"You get back into that bed. You don't try to escape because you know that's not possible." His voice had dropped low, and each word came out sharp as the knives edge. The hair rose on the end of her neck.

All she could do was nod.

"Good girl."

He eased his leg down, and she found the pads of her feet on the carpet again. He pushed away from the wall, releasing her from the cage he had created.

Chloe walked in front of him like a prisoner, and there was a pang of resentment in her stomach coupled with the fear as she lay back down.

He worked his way slowly and gently as he tied her up again.

He kneeled down by the bed, next to her head.

"You don't understand it yet, but you will." Billy grasped her hand in his, squeezing tightly as she tried to pull out of his grasp. He brushed her hand with his thumb that she supposed to supposed to be an affectionate gesture.

"I don't want to do this, these games you play." Her voice was hoarse again, like she had been screaming. Except all she had been was quiet the whole time. The prey to his predator.

"You and I aren't as different as you think."

"I don't, I don't understand what you mean." She said slowly. It was like trying to put together a puzzle piece, but all the pieces weren't quite fitting right.

"You can't keep secrets from me, Phoebe. I know you. I know everything."

Her headed snapped up to look at him. He knew her real name.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. Listen," he said as he opened the bedroom drawer and pulled out a syringe, "I don't want you to be frightened now. But I'm going to have to leave you for a while and I don't want you to get bored. But I can't entrust you to be by yourself, not tonight. So I'm going to help you sleep."

The thin chains above her rattled again. "What the hell is that?!"

"Just a sedative." He murmured.

"Billy I'm fine. I won't be bored. Don't do this." Chloe pleaded with him.

His eyes sparkled in amusement. "I know you've always been scared of needles. It won't hurt if you relax, and I know what I'm doing. I've had a lot of practice over the years."

She looked at him in alarm. On _who?_

Flipping her hand he placed his knee on her wrist as he placed her other on the crook of her elbow, keeping her arm in place. She kicked her leg, but it was a futile gesture.

"This would be easier if you didn't throw a tantrum."

Some of the liquid sprayed out of the syringe as he removed the air bubbles, and then he angled the needle downwards. She whimpered as she felt the cold metal pressed into her arm and his dark eyes flickered up to look at her before focusing back on her arm.

The porcelain skin broke as he pushed the needle in and the liquid left the syringe. After a minute it had already taken affect and she relaxed automatically. He stood up and bent down, lips brushing against her forehead.

"I'll be back soon. Sweet dreams, Phoebe."

 _No, that's not my name, not anymore._ She wanted to say, but her eyes slid shut as the sedative dragged her under.


End file.
